The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-08-04

| the flowers on the damp turf were as
motionless as though Omnipotence had
whispered through the labyrinth ''be still v
As went on / stumbled, once, twice, In the
| dim light. Behind me, faint glow from red
sunset threw my shadow grimlY along the
path until it was lost in the depths.
| stepped sside and then 1 saw that-ah-ah
i shuddered in my sleep-I had fallen
over gaunt arms that rose from the sod and
| twined their skeleton fingers across my
way. Here and there gray skulls dotted
| the path and turned their sightless sockets
TO the fading day. Filled with an awful
| fear tried to ourry on, but my feet refused
to movo. l tired to shrek, but my lips
gave forth no sound. l could not lift my
| eyes from the road before me. Then boDy
| finger moved; shriveled hand unclasped
| and beckoncd TO me; then another and
| another, until the whole forest awakened;
baleful lights cleaned from the hollow
| skulls, and rustling leaves woke a weird
| melody, multitude of grisly arms waved
me greeting-and | awoke to hear the
noises Of The street beneath my window
ano see the morning sunlight making quaint
mosaics on the floor.
A package from DR.. Max was handed to
me an hour later. A book, less than an
wrapping. Between heavy ox-hide covers,
each crossed with three parallel brass
bands, found fifty sheets of heavy parch-
ment. The sheets were hard and brittle
and coarse, indicating great age. There
was no exterior symbol, but / knew that
the manuscript was a copy of an older
work. IL was in early Greek, and the
quaint characters, many of them obsolete,
fOrpn6 No r., fool Al
not be an easy one. There was neither pre-
face nor introduction. The first page be-
gan abruptly in nexameter-a measure that
was sublime. 1t ended on the last page as
abruptly as it had commenced.
l did not waste precious time commeuc-
ing my work, which promised great fas-
cina:ion for me. The reverence, the curl
osity which this relic OF lost age awak-
ened within me was but the natural out
growth of my bibliOphilism, fostered
through years of study and research in the
old languages. Itouched the faded leaves
with caressing hand, and for brief inter-
val stepped from under the black shadow
that hung over me; l forgot the promised
reward and the Doctor of Dutch Bottom"
was to me for the moment as though he had
never been.
1t was noon before knew it, but interest
in the brass bound book held me to my
work, and unmindful of repeated rings of
the dinner bell kept on. Hour after hour
wrote, until the floor about my table was
white with the shower of leaves.
The original manuscript had been the
work of a Delphian priestess and was sa-
cred to her Offices. 1t was a treatise on
the Oracle, the functions of the priestly or
of nj Nd h.aI in
cantation spells. 1t was in three parts.
The first fifteen pages held the rythmic
measure of poem Of iudescribable beauty
l: was an appeal to the highest intellectual
powers of man; a leading string thrown
out to draw him to a consideration of the
unseen and the unknown. This, in the sue
ceeding fifteen pages, embraced, in prose,
a treatise on elemental mysteries, the ne
cessity Of inward purity to perfect knowl-
edge of the sublime and the controlling
forces in nature. The remainder of the
strange tome, until it broke abruptly on the
last page, detailed the external and purely
ceremonial rites requisite to invoke the ap-
pearance and control OF elementals, their
subjugation, for evil or for good,
to the rule of the master mind.
Wrapped up, fascinated under the spell
the day died with the red signals OF a storm
flying in the eastern sky. My eyes were
swollen with the hours Of application to
my task. The lids hung over the bloodshot
orbs like canopies of lead. But l kept on,
pausing only at intervals to shut out the
light until the white film that gathered over
the pupils had passed away.
The remembrance of the eighteen hours
of fla ,ax,f fol,I
at this late day. The surge OF conflicting
emotions, the uncertainty of hope, the de- |
spair born Of dread of life of darkness, |
were Iulled into a sudden sleep that bore |
with it a nightmare more racking than the |
passion that preceded it. was chained to |
the chair by some strange power that |
emanated from the book. The lamp-light, |
falling upon the pages of my work. took on |
the effulgence of noon, that scorched the |
organs of sight until the blue lines on the |
pages wavered under my weal = pen, then |
faded entirely, and my staring eyes looked |
helplessly into space.
Nothing but my indomitable will sus- |
tanned NE to the end. Twas conscious that |
the secrets of Il priestly race were mine. |
reached down the ages, past the crumbling |
stories of Attica and the ruined monuments |
of Macedonia, into the very shadow of Par |
nassus, and tore the vail asunder that |
shielded the secrets of the Pythoness from |
the multitudes that made her haunt their |
Mecca centuries before Judea had known |
the Nazarine What was modern Theos- |
ophy and the teachings of a Blavatsky to |
the secrets that were within my graspi
All sounds Of life had been hushed for |
hours when reached the last line. Trem- |
bling under the pressure of emotions held |
in check, 1 wrote the final word and threw |
my pen aside. AS rose from my chair a !
faintness seized me; my brain reeled and |
knew no more
The song OF a bird, the creaking of |
wheels, and voices in the street fell on nv |
ear with confused murmur when l re-
gained my senses. 1t was broad daylight. |
walked to the window and threw up the |
sash. The warm wind, rich with the per- |
fume Of the autumn woods and fields, was |
like balm TO my aching brain. My blood |
throbbed tiercely through my hot veins. |
Every thing seemed unreal; l was an au-
tomaton in the center of painted land |
scape. For the first time in my life / |
called for and drank heavy draught of /
brandy. l fell asleep again, but only TO |
bring recurrence Of the dream torture of |
the previous night Hour after hour went |
by, until finally rallied from my semi-co- |
matose condition just as evening fell. 1 |
waited the coming of the darkness with !
feverish impatieRce, for the curse Of the |
was upon me.
Should l test the secreti Why might 1 |
not prove the whole thing to be a cunning |
fraud, or, if true, place myself in possession |
of a power that would bend to my wish the |
forces of naturel
1 could resist no longer Grasping a |
small night lamp and a grotesque earthen |!
water bottle from my table, rushed into |